Something shifts in Luan's expression. The neutral mask cracks slightly, revealing venom underneath.
"My father is an old son of a bitch stuck in old ways," he says, each word carrying barely contained fury. "But you won't need to worry about him much longer."
Zakhar leans forward slightly. "What does that mean?"
"I'm not in a position to share specifics at this moment." Luan's tone becomes cryptic. "But soon, you'll understand. You'll need to trust me on this."
Alexei scoffs. "We didn't get where we are by trusting people."
"Fair point." Luan nods, accepting the logic. "So let me give you something that might change your mind about my intentions."
He has our full attention now.
"I know you're hunting for Eryan Nis," he continues. "I'm in a position to help you find him."
My pulse kicks up, but I keep my expression neutral. "How?"
"I have information that Eryan Nis operates through a company called C.H.T. Onix. Registered in the Cayman Islands."
Zakhar and I share a look. That's the same information he already uncovered.
"We're already aware of that connection," Zakhar says carefully.
"I thought you might be." Luan stands, buttons his jacket with precise movements. "But what you probably don't know is that C.H.T. Onix is owned by another company. Furies Corporation."
The name means nothing to me.
Luan continues, and I can see him savoring this moment. The reveal he's been building toward.
"Furies Corporation owns multiple commercial properties in Chicago. High-end establishments, mostly." He pauses, lettinganticipation build. "Maison Lyra. Luma Pilates. Serenity Spa. Beaumont Atelier."
My blood goes cold.
"All frequented by your wife," Luan finishes, voice soft. "Almost daily, in fact. Interesting coincidence, don't you think?"
Victoria. Connected to Furies Corporation. Which owns C.H.T. Onix. Which is linked to Eryan Nis.
My mind races through implications, connections, patterns that suddenly snap into sharp, devastating focus.
No.
It can't be.
But even as I try to deny it, the evidence aligns with brutal clarity.
Luan watches us process the information. Watches our faces as understanding dawns. Watches the moment belief becomes unavoidable.
"I'll leave you gentlemen to discuss this among yourselves," he says, moving toward the door. "When you're ready to talk about mutual interests and future cooperation, you know how to reach me."
He leaves. The door closes behind him with a soft click.
Silence fills the office. Heavy. Suffocating. Loaded with implications none of us want to voice.
31
ALEXEI
The air feels too thick to breathe. Like the room has shrunk around us, walls pressing in, crushing the oxygen out of our lungs.
